


Better Love

by mwildsides



Series: steve/bucky kidfic!verse [6]
Category: Captain America
Genre: Fix It Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 04:06:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mwildsides/pseuds/mwildsides





	Better Love

“You should go back,” Natasha tells him, weeks later.

Weeks later, and it’s too late. 

Bucky says nothing just taps his fingers on the tabletop, and pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek as Natasha affixes him with one of those stares of hers. He’s not even really sure how to reply to that, so it’s best he doesn’t. 

Steve and Sarah think he’s dead. How can Bucky waltz back in, all, _Honey, I’m home!_ and expect them, Steve especially, to just...take it. Especially because he’s _alive_ and said absolutely nothing while he debated on going to Russia. Well, he still was thinking about it, but currently, Natasha was trying to talk him out of it, though why, he couldn’t guess. 

“Because they’re you’re family, jesus James, I’ve seen that much, and you don’t belong in Russia the way you belong with them,” She’s getting that angry edge to her voice, and it makes Bucky look at her, finally. Nat raises her eyebrows, “I guess I don’t understand why you’re turning away from all that.” 

Running a hand through his hair, Bucky leans forward and rests his elbows on the table, sighing. “Because they deserve better. And they sure as hell deserve someone who doesn’t _lie_ about being dead.” 

“Technically that’s Fury’s fault,” Natasha says, cocking her head to one side. That’s not the truth, not at all, because while Steve was the first thing he thought about after three days letting the Infinity Formula do its work, telling him somehow wasn’t. His thought process slowed down, and once he turned it over more, going back seemed like it’d only be traumatic for Steve and Sarah.

“Otherwise I’d be real good and dead,” Bucky bites back, but he doesn’t know which one is worse, “Even then it just....it wouldn’t be as easy as going back, would it. I don’t even know if Steve would - “ He stops there and shakes his head, because he can’t even begin to guess what Steve would do. More likely than not, he’d welcome Bucky right back because he was just that grateful he was alive, and because he’s Steve. But that’s the opposite of what Bucky thinks _should_ happen. 

“Even if Steve is angry you, it won’t be for long, and we both know that. He needs you, and so does Sarah, maybe even her more so. But Steve’s lost you one too many times. Going back would be the admirable thing to do, James,” Natasha says and stands from her seat, walking toward the door, “I’ll get Fury.” 

Bucky knows she’s right, and that he’s being some kind of coward. He’s got himself into a real bind. 

 

 

Nick, rather reluctantly, agrees to go with Bucky, and tell Steve first. They both figured (hoped) the shock would maybe be...less that way, if he heard what had happened, instead of seeing Bucky first, but they couldn’t really know. 

They go to the apartment in Brooklyn on a Sunday, and Bucky’s heart aches at the sight. He misses it, misses Steve and Sarah so bad it hurts, and just the sight of the place makes him glad to be back even if it’s a bit early for that. Still, theres a clenching in his chest he just can’t stamp down. Upstairs, Fury knocks on the door after getting through the security clearances (and miraculously, Bucky does too), while Bucky waits a bit down the hall, so Steve won’t see him, and jesus does that feel awful, dishonest. Then again, while he’s on a roll with dishonesty...

It isn’t Steve who answers the door. 

Bucky hears Sarah’s voice from down the hall, but it’s quiet, and he can’t tell exactly what she says. He shuts his eyes, leaning his forehead against the wall next to him as he sighs, and listens as the door closes. He moves closer to it then, making sure his footsteps are quiet, because he damn well knows Steve would be able to hear if Bucky was clunking around outside the door. 

And that’s an irrational worry, but Bucky is as anxious as he’s ever been. He tries to listen, and for a while it doesn’t really work, Fury and Steve’s voices just humming noises behind the wall, until Steve _raises_ his. But he’s quite after that, no doubt menacing at Nick, now that he’s angry. Maybe about bringing this around Sarah, telling Steve while she’s there, or pulling the LMD stunt at all, especially after Thor. Bucky can just guess. 

Something crashes inside of the apartment, god knows what, and then the door is jerked open, slamming back against the wall as Steve steps out into the hallway. Bucky pushes away from the wall with alarm, and they stare at each other for a long, long time, mouths open, Steve’s breathing harsh in the relative silence of the hall. 

“You - ....” Steve tries, and it’s easy to see he doesn’t even know where to begin, “How the _hell_ do I know it’s you?” Or maybe he does. Bucky almost recoils from that question, or the tone of Steve’s voice, but grits his teeth. He doesn’t answer right away, unsure how. After all that he’d known he’d be coming here, he didn’t even know where to begin to explain this to Steve or Sarah.

“You have my word, if that means anything to you anymore,” he says, voice quiet as he watches Steve’s face change slightly, softening if only a little. He shakes his head, and steps forward, making a bee-line for Bucky. 

They collide hard, wrap their arms around one another, and cling. 

“If you’re lying, either of you, so help me god I’ll strangle you both,” Steve says, but his voice breaks with the threat, and Bucky can’t help but bury his face against the blond’s neck, inhaling deeply of his familiar scent. 

“Christ I’m so sorry Steve, you know I’m an idiot, I shouldn’t have let Fury - let this lie go on, I’m so fucking sorry you have no - “ Bucky can’t stop, nor will he probably ever stop apologizing, but Steve just squeezes him, then lets him go. 

“Don’t apologize to _me,”_ And Bucky knows exactly what that means. 

Sarah knows better, or maybe doesn’t know enough, than to question that Bucky is who he says he is. She’s not privy on Skrull’s or LMD’s or any manner of shapeshifting entities that could be posing as her other father, so she’s simply, overwhelmingly happy to see him. She throws herself into Bucky’s arms and sobs, and despite how hard he tries, Bucky’s eyes well with tears too. Somewhere during the reunion, Fury says something to Steve and slips from the apartment silently, something Bucky is beyond grateful for. 

When he releases Sarah, or at least withdraws to arms length with his hands still on her shoulders, neither of them says a word. Steve sure as shit is silent, and Sarah probably doesn’t know _what_ to say. She’s still crying a little, sniffling as she looks at Bucky. He tries to smile for her, but it’s sort of hard. 

“I’m so sorry,” he manages, and Sarah frowns because she doesn’t know the whole story yet, how Bucky let her and Steve _mourn_ and then some, before coming back. That he’d thought of going back to Russia, and he can’t remember for the life of him why right now, because it seems like such a stupid fucking idea, leaving these two. 

“It-it’s okay papa,” Sarah says, voice small and it breaks Bucky’s heart and he’s such a fucking idiot. 

 

They don’t say much to one another after Bucky tries his best to explain to Sarah what happened, because she does at least ask. Steve is silent, expressionless as he stands by the windows for a while, and Bucky looks up at him often, wondering what on earth he might be thinking. Again, anger would make sense. Bucky wouldn’t blame him. Eventually, he mumbles that he has to go down to S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ that they’re rebuilding, apparently, and Bucky just gives him a quiet, hapless goodbye, and so does Sarah. After that, the two of them sit quietly on the couch watching TV, Sarah tucked up against his side. 

As worried as he is, Bucky is so happy to be here, right here watching some dumb kids show with his daughter. 

Steve doesn’t come back for a while, till it’s dark and Bucky’s fixing dinner. He says nothing as he comes in, and Sarah asks quietly if he was okay when he came to stand next to her at the island. Again, they don’t really say anything, Bucky looks up at Steve to find him looking back with an expression Bucky hasn’t ever seen, and they’ve known each other for about 90 years now, give or take a few years. It’s a little scary, but he knows later, when Sarah is asleep, they’ll talk. 

Bucky puts her to bed even though he probably doesn’t need to; he’s missed her, missed doing that, and so he presses a kiss to her forehead before he leaves. Back in their bedroom--in _Steve’s_ bedroom, the blond is standing by the open window, and turns when Bucky closes the door. They undress quietly, get ready for bed without saying a word to one another, and it’s as tense as it’s ever been between them. Once they slip into bed, under the covers, they lay on their backs, shoulders barely touching, and Steve finally sighs. 

“We had to bury you, Bucky,” he says, tone flat, “We had to bury you. Move on-- _again,_ though I don’t know why I thought - “ And that’s Steve’s quiet, simmering anger, “Why I thought this time was any different.” 

His head turns on the pillow to look at Bucky, though he just sort of looks at his shoulder. “Your things are - ....I um....” Steve sighs heavily, closes his eyes, and raises a hand to cover them, and Bucky is aching to reach out to him, to beg like a dog for his forgiveness, “I got rid of some of your things a while ago....I had to,” he whispers, and Bucky nods, because he understands. Steve’s been trying to move on. Makes sense. 

“Okay,” Bucky says, voice just above a whisper, “Yeah, okay.” He doesn’t even know what else to say, so he just stares at Steve’s face instead, which isn’t as impassive as it’s been all night. His brown is wrinkled slightly, but that’s the only big difference. Bucky breaks, because he’s been playing like it’s fine for as long as Steve has been wearing that mask, and it was probably all for Sarah. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry,” Bucky says, and he sounds despicably desperate, maybe because he is. He frowns so hard it hurts, and turns on his side to face Steve, still fighting the urge to reach out and touch him. It hasn’t been long, but he’s still hurting for it, “Steve.” 

Steve looks at him, finally, and his own frown is more anguished than it is anything else. 

And Bucky understands, he does, he was expecting anger anyway, or just...it makes sense. It’s reasonable (despite the fact that their situation is the exact opposite), but that doesn’t make it any easier on Bucky. But then again, he doesn’t think he deserves easier. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, reaching out for Steve’s hand under the sheets. He lets Bucky take it, but doesn’t do anything else. 

“I know.” 

 

It’s hard, sleeping in the same bed as Steve without being wrapped around him, tangled up with him. In fact Bucky doesn’t really sleep at all, just lays there for god knows how long, listening to the sound of Steve’s breathing, which feels comforting somehow. The whole time he tells himself that things are going to be okay, sometime. Probably not soon, maybe not in the foreseeable future, but...sometime. Maybe. He can’t even be sure, and it’s awful all night. 

He spends a few nights like that, and eventually, he just goes to lay out on the couch. It sucks, and it’s not Steve’s fault at all of course, he doesn’t say a darn thing, but that way, Bucky can actually sleep. The days aren’t much easier either; Steve’s got a lot to do with regrouping the Avengers, and cleaning up New York, and Bucky checks in with Fury and Nat on the spy carrier here and there. Sarah doesn’t have a school to go to anymore, so she usually stays with Bucky at home, or goes with Steve, and some days, they all take a walk to a park not far from their apartment. 

Steve talks to him with ease now, though there’s something stilted about it, and it’s incredibly strange to hear from him. Sarah probably doesn’t notice, because he smiles for her, and holds Bucky’s hand for her, but  there is something distinctly _off_ about all of it. They don’t make love, and after a month, Bucky still sleeps on the couch. It’s fine though, he wants Steve to take his time. If he needs two months, three, six, whatever, it doesn’t matter, Bucky is damn well willing to wait it out on the couch. 

They settle into some sense of normalcy. One morning, Steve kisses Bucky, quick and brief because he’s on his way out, but it’s something, and of course Bucky chases after his friend’s lips subtly. It makes him smile, keeps him smiling for the rest of the day, and that night after they’ve all gone to their respective beds, after Bucky falls asleep, he feels the weight shift on the couch. 

Opening his eyes slowly, he looks at Steve through the darkness, sitting there by his hips. He looks... calm. Different. 

“...Hey,” Bucky mumbles, and turns over on to his back a little, rubbing is face. 

Steve stands up, “Come on,” he says, and waves a hand at Bucky, before turning to leave the living room entirely. For a few moments, Bucky just stays where he is, sleepy and confused, right up until he isn’t. He shoots up, forgetting his blanket and pillow entirely as he practically jogs back to their bedroom. Steve’s already in bed, and he closes the door before closing the distance between it and the bed in a few careful strides. Steve watches the whole time, pushes back the thick down comforter they use in winter, and he’s laying in the center of the bed, so there isn’t anywhere for Bucky to go but right up against him. 

Once he gets situated, they’re laying on their sides looking at one another, and Steve speaks first. 

“I don’t know why you’ve been sleeping out there,” he says softly. Bucky shrugs, the covers slipping down his shoulder. 

“I don’t sleep when it’s just...me thinking and you laying behind me. I didn’t sleep for like three days. I just can’t when you’re not - “ He stops himself, but Steve nods on the pillow. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and moves forward a little to wrap his arm around Bucky’s waist, haul him close. It catches the brunette off guard, and he stiffens for half a second, before worming closer to Steve quickly, getting his own arm around Steve’s waist, and clutching at him greedily. He tucks his head under Steve’s chin, and sighs, closing his eyes. 

“Don’t.” Steve apologizing is just ridiculous, and Bucky squeezes him a little harder, shaking his head. 

“I didn’t mean to push you away like that, Bucky, it’s just hard, you’ve got to know that,” Steve murmured, “I’m still...still getting used to it,” 

“Of course,” Bucky sighs, licking his lips as he revels in the feel of Steve’s skin, his warmth and the rise and fall of his breath, “God, I’ll take what I can get. And I’m so sorr - “

Steve cuts him off. “Please stop apologizing.” 

“Steve I - “ 

“No, Bucky, really. I get it, I forgive you. Is that what you’ve been waiting to hear?” 

Bucky stays quiet for a moment, his whole body still as he opens his eyes, because yes, _yes_ that’s exactly what he’s been waiting for. 

“Maybe,” he whispers, voice small, and he curls in on himself, into Steve. 

“Oh Bucky...” Steve sighs, squeezing Bucky a bit tighter to him and god does it feel good. And it’s _enough._ It’s the right road, anyway. 

After that, things don’t immediately go back to normal, because really, it hasn’t been all that long. Steve and Bucky don’t touch and kiss and they aren’t as close as they used to be, but again, it’s on the right path. Aside from the tension lingering between him and Steve, Bucky’s incredibly happy to be back. He’s happy to play with Sarah whenever the hell she wants, and he doesn’t complain about having to play Barbies with her. He does it gladly, and doesn’t take a second with her for granted. There is something vaguely different about her since he’s been back, even though it’s minimal, almost non-inexistent. She’s a little....Bucky can’t put his finger on it, but knows it has to do with the fact that she’s had to deal with the fact that he was dead. And now he’s not. 

He takes her out to the museum one afternoon, and on the way back, they talk about it casually, or at least that’s how Bucky approaches it. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, after they get frozen yogurt. Sarah sucks on her spoon, and shrugs, “I mean with...me, I know dad’s not. Not yet.” Bucky glances down at his daughter, gauging her reaction. Her expression is placid. 

“I’m okay,” She says simply, spooning up another bite of strawberry yogurt, “Dad’s just sad, I bet. But I’d rather have you back instead of um,” 

“Not at all,” Bucky finishes for her, smiling a little as he lays a hand on her shoulder. She nods and puts her spoon in her mouth again, effectively ending that conversation. So she’s doing okay with it. Dealing. It’s probably simpler because she’s so young, and doesn’t really understand everything just yet, and honestly, Bucky’s glad for it. 

Steve talks to Bucky about things, too, about why it’s been hard for him, and a lot of it has to do with the fact that he had to be okay for Sarah. He had to show her they would be okay, and that death wasn’t always a terrible thing. He even told Bucky what Sarah had told him that night, about him still being with her and Steve. Bucky had a hard time with that, and every time Steve would tell him about the time in between, the guilt gnawed at him until it was almost unbearable. Talking it out is almost worse, but they have to do it.

One night, he snapped, rolling away from Steve from where they’d been laying on the bed, hands covering his face. 

“Fuck, see, this is exactly - ....Steve, this is why I was considering going. Because you two deserve - deserve better than someone who’s going to lie to you about that kind of shit. And let you live like this. _Then_ be so selfish to come back, and expect you to - to just let me back in like this. Dammit...” Sighing, Bucky pushed his hands back into his hair, tugging at it roughly as he stared at the ceiling. Until Steve moves over him, looming, his hands pulling at Bucky’s. 

“No, what we deserve is to have you back,” he says sternly, pinning both of the other man’s hands above his head, “We deserve you, completely, none of this guilt, none of this _dwelling,_ it’s keeping you just out of reach. I know I’m....not really helping, but I’m getting there, and christ, I love you, Bucky, I do, nothing you do is going to change that.” 

Bucky just looks at him for a few moments, a bit bewildered by Steve’s sudden fervency. 

“We both know you shouldn’t have done what you did, but I understand that it caught you in a bit of a bind, okay, I really do. But honestly, god, it’s such a...no, that’s not right but....I wanted you back more than anything Bucky, no matter how angry I may have been. I just wanted you to be alive. And now I’ve got that,” There’s something fierce in the way Steve speaks, the way he squeezes Bucky’s wrists, “I’m going to get over this. I’m trying. And you have to too.” 

He rolls away from Bucky, who wonders if Steve is _angry._ Bucky considers his words for a second, side-eyeing his friend. He almost apologizes, but he knows that anymore, that just irritates Steve, so he just opens and closes his mouth, unsure what to say. 

“I just...want to forget this happened,” Steve sighs, closing his eyes, “It’s not doing any good to talk ourselves in circles like this.” 

Bucky nods, and pushes himself up a little, moving across the space between them, to press up against Steve’s side. He slides his hand across the firm expanse of the blond’s stomach, sighing because it’s been too fucking long since they’ve made love, and it might be a bad time, but - “I miss you, Steve,” Bucky sighs, and it’s almost a confession, because so much of what he does any more is laden with guilt. And he knows that’s wrong. 

Steve looks up at Bucky for a few long moments, and nods. Bucky leans in and slots his mouth against the other man’s in a kiss the likes of which they haven’t shared since way before all this crap happened. He pours ever ounce of enthusiasm he has into it, tongue licking into Steve’s mouth without permission, although Steve opens up under him. There’s a hand on Bucky’s arm, at his elbow, his bicep, and then Steve is rolling them both over, pressing his weight against Bucky’s body again. The brunette makes a sound, desperate and _elated,_ and Steve swallows it up. 

They take their time, make love a few times that night. Bucky’s exhausted after the first time, but after so long, he just wants, and Steve does too, apparently. In the morning, Steve lets Bucky sleep, watches him for a little while, face slack with how deeply he’s sleeping. He counts his lucky stars that he’s got Bucky back, and begrudgingly sends a thanks out into the universe to Fury and those stupid LMD’s. 


End file.
